


Beyond Behavioral Analysis

by VampireWithASoul



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Adventure, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-30 15:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireWithASoul/pseuds/VampireWithASoul
Summary: "Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." -- Lao-Tzu





	1. Chapter 1

Agent Amelia Baylock

I couldn't believe it. I had done it! I felt like leaping for joy as I received my badge and ID. My best friend, Kathleen Herrera, was sitting in the front row in front of the podium applauding wildly. My father stood in the back, looking snappy in his dress blues of the Pennsylvania State Troopers, a proud smile on his face. And even then, I could feel my mother's presence. She was smiling too. I had my doctorate in Criminal psychology and I was all set to go work for the FBI in the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico. I shook hands with my instructor and smiled as my name was announced. I smiled back at him and returned to my seat. The rest of my classmates received their badges and we all graduated from the FBI Academy. At the reception, my dad came up to me and gave me a huge hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Amelia," he said.

"Thanks, Dad," I replied. I didn't have time to actually say anything else because Kathleen came from behind me in an attack hug.

"Amelia this is so awesome! I can't believe you graduated top of the class! Well, okay, I can believe it but still IT'S SO AWESOME!" Kathleen rambled at a mile a minute. "I wish I could go with you to Quantico."

"Calm down, Kathleen! You graduated too, didn't you? Besides, you're going to be an awesome field agent," I said.

"Aww, thanks!" she said, giving me another squeeze. "I have to go and see my parents. I just wanted to say bye before I headed to DC."

"Bye Kathleen, and good luck," I replied, returning her hug. She gave me one more hug and took off to find her parents. With that, I turned back to my dad, who pulled me into a bear hug.

"Lia, you're going to be amazing," he said, his voice cracking slightly. I pulled back and smiled, wiping the tears from my face.

"Maybe I'll be able to come home at some point soon," I said. He smiled back at me and wiped a tear off of his own face.

"Don't rush it, hun," he said. "You do what you have to do and only take time off if you really need it. But know that you can always come home when you have to. I should probably get going. My flight back to Pittsburgh is going to leave in 4 hours and you know how traffic is at this time of day."

"Yeah," I replied. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, kiddo," he said. We hugged one last time and he left. I watched him go before heading to the green room and picking up my coat and belongings.

"Agent Baylock," came a voice behind me. I turned around to face my director.

"Yes sir?"

"I just wanted to give you this," he said, handing me a brown file folder with the FBI logo on it. I opened it and gave it a once over before closing it and placing it in my blue messenger bag that was hanging across my body from my left shoulder.

"I'll read the details when I get home, sir," I said. He nodded and held out his hand.

"Congratulations, Baylock. You're going to make a hell of an agent," he said.

"Thank you, sir," I said, taking his hand and shaking it. He bid me good night and returned to the other guests who were sticking around a bit longer. I nodded to a few other new agents and headed for the garage. I hopped into my Ford F150 and drove to my apartment, which was about 5 miles past the FBI Headquarters. The reception had been at a local hotel about 2 miles away. I drove past Headquarters on the way to my apartment and I couldn't help but stop and look. The building stood like a beacon in the night, a symbol of the men and women who worked tirelessly to catch the criminals who were a danger to the citizens of the United States. I was more than proud to be a member of this fine organization. Tomorrow, I was going to give my service to my country in the best way that I knew how: finding the sickos that made neighborhoods unsafe for citizens before they caused more trouble.


	2. My New Team

When I got back to my apartment, I set my bag down, made myself some tea, put my PJs on and sat down on my couch with the file. I turned on some Celtic music on my iPod, which was hooked to my stereo, and opened the folder. They were some details regarding whom I was going to be working with.

Aaron Hotchner, the Unit Chief, was a serious looking man with dark hair and eyes. His file said that he had been wounded in the line of duty by a bombing, where another agent was killed. He had also lost his wife to a serial killer who had been stalking him for a time, leaving him with his young son, Jack.

Senior Supervisory Special Agent (Senior SSA) David Rossi was an agent who claimed to have written the book on hostage negotiation and took annual lecture and book-signing tours around the country. Rossi was an older man with dark skin and graying hair.

SSA Derek Morgan was, in a way, living the American dream: troubled youth growing up in Chicago, got into college with a football scholarship to Northwestern, was a Chicago cop and member of the bomb squad before coming to the BAU. He was the only son of a bi-racial couple and was noted to have very strong convictions about who he was.

SSA Emily Prentiss was the daughter of Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss, whom I knew about. She fluent in Arabic and Spanish and was working on Italian. Prentiss looked like her mother: long dark hair and pale skin. Her convictions were strong and she was very serious about her job, but got along with everyone.

SSA and Media Liaison Jennifer "JJ" Jareau was from my area. A graduate of East Allegheny High and a University of Pittsburgh alumnus, Jennifer currently had a child with a cop from New Orleans. I could see why they chose her for their media liaison. Not only did she have the skills, she was a very pretty girl with blonde hair and gentle features.

Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia was actually caught by the FBI and was offered a job because of her skills with computers. She was a bigger girl with blonde hair and a flair for the interesting clothing. Her file also stated that she had a very charismatic personality and shared playful banter with Derek Morgan.  _Master hacker…Well, if you can't beat them, get them on your side,_  I thought as I flipped to what seemed like the last file.

SSA Dr. Spencer Reid… _Wait, Doctor?_  I read through his file and saw that he had three PhDs and two BAs and was working on a third BA. He graduated from his high school in Vegas when he was 12 and had an IQ of 187. Mine was only 160 but I still considered myself to be pretty damn smart. This guy, however, was off the charts as far as I was concerned. Hopefully, he would be the one that I could at least talk to about different subjects other than work.

I put the file down and went to my bathroom, taking a good look at myself. Looking back at me was a girl in her early 20s with middle-length ash brown hair. My eyes were dark blue tonight, but there were some days where they would change from light blue to slate gray and everywhere in between. I was still suffering from acne problems, but I only had breakouts when it was that time of the month. I wasn't skinny by any means of the word, but I wasn't heavy. My friends described me as curvy. I washed my face and brushed my teeth. As I crawled into bed, I found myself still thinking about Reid. He and JJ were the only two that I actually had anything in common with, and Reid even more so than JJ. She and I might be from the same town, but Reid and I were of similar intelligence levels and we both were pretty successful for our ages. My biggest question: was he going to like me? Was anyone going to like me?


	3. My New Team...and First Case

The next day, I parked at Headquarters and walked in, looking professional and my favorite messenger bag over my shoulder, carrying my file on the team, and every other essential thing that I needed – feminine and otherwise. I had a cup of coffee in my right hand and my Bluetooth in my left ear. I walked into the lobby and walked up to the receptionist.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Amelia Baylock," I began, but the receptionist gave me what I needed to know.

"Yes, SSA Hotchner is expecting you. 5th floor," she said, smiling and pointing to the elevators to my left. "Welcome to the FBI," she added.

"Thanks," I said, and headed to the elevators. One was just closing so I ran, calling for the man inside to hold it. Once inside, I went to hit the 5th button, but saw that it was already pressed. When I got a good look at the man standing next to me with a cup of coffee in his hand, I saw dark hair, dark eyes and a serious face. It was SSA Aaron Hotchner. "Umm, Agent Hotchner?" I asked, deciding to go ahead and make the move. He looked at me, slightly confused.

"Yes?" This confirmation should have relaxed me, but I was even more nervous. This was probably because I was looking at my new boss. Switching my coffee to my left hand so that he wouldn't have to, I extended my right hand.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Amelia Baylock, your new team member," I said. I kept my voice friendly, but serious. He looked at me for a second, then gave a small grin and shook my extended hand.

"We've been expecting you, Agent Baylock," he said. "It's a pleasure." The doors opened and we stepped out and headed for an office area that was already bustling with people. "Morning everyone," Hotchner said. "Can I have your attention?" The bustling came quickly to a halt and everyone looked at him. "This is Dr. Amelia Baylock," he continued, motioning to me. "She just graduated from the Academy and will be joining our team."

"It's a real pleasure to be here," I said with a nervous smile.

"I hope you'll all introduce yourselves. Morgan, can you show Amelia where her desk will be?" Hotchner said, looking at a taller, bi-racial man who was standing by a girl with dark brown hair. The man, whom I identified as Derek Morgan, nodded and looked at me with a grin. He walked over while everyone returned to his or her normal business.

"Welcome to the BAU," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm SSA Derek Morgan."

"Nice to meet you," I replied, shaking his hand.

"You're probably going to do a lot of that today," he remarked. Morgan led me over to an empty desk closer to the center of the room. "So this is where you'll live for the rest of your life," he joked as I set my bag down. I laughed along with him.

"That's the plan," I said.

"Anyway, Hotch's office is up there," Morgan continued, pointing to a few windows that were above the rest of the desks. "The rest of the peasants are down here," he added with a smile, making a sweeping motion around the rest of the office. I grinned and started unpacking my stuff.

"Thanks a lot, Morgan. I appreciate it," I said.

"No problem. If you need anything, don't hesitate to let me know," he replied. He have me a pat on the back and went back to his desk. I nodded and continued with my unpacking. Throughout the next 10 minutes or so, Emily Prentiss, JJ, and David Rossi all came up to me and said introduced themselves. JJ even commented that she was glad to have another "yinzer" nearby. I even got lucky, apparently, and caught Penelope Garcia out of her computer room. There was one person, however, that I really wanted to meet: Spencer Reid. I didn't see him for a good hour. It was only when he walked out of one of the conference rooms with a stack of papers that I actually got a good look at him. He was very tall, his hair was shoulder length, wavy, and looked slightly unkempt compared to the picture on his file. He walked right past my desk and sat down at his…right across from mine. It took him an additional 5 minutes before he actually looked up and saw me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him catch Morgan, who was walking past. They had a quick, hushed conversation, where Reid pointed to me with a puzzled look on his face. Apparently, Morgan had said that I was new here, because Reid stood up and walked all of 3 feet to my desk.

"Hi there, I'm told you're the new member of the team," Reid said, his manner polite. I looked up to see him standing there with his hands in his pockets and a bit of an awkward smile on his face. I nodded, stood up and smiled – Gosh, my face was getting tired from all of the smiling – holding out my hand.

"Yeah, I am," I replied. "I'm Dr. Amelia Baylock." Reid shook my hand and his awkward smile – which was incredibly cute – turned into a look of mild shock.

"'Doctor'? What's you're doctorate in?" he asked.

"Criminal Psychology, specifically addiction and stalking," I replied.

"You're kind of…"

"Young? I know. But I could say the same thing about you, Dr. Reid. I read your file." I noticed that saying that created a small shadow of surprise cross over his face before it was quickly replaced with another look.

"I'm impressed," he said. "Are you working on anything else?"

"Sort of. I'm taking online classes for my BA in Child Psychology. The human mind just fascinates me," I replied.

"Where did you do your PhD?"

"CUNY. I'm doing my Child Psychology at Pitt." He was about to ask another question when both of our phones rang. We looked at them, looked back at each other, smiled and awkwardly excused ourselves. I sat down and picked up my phone.

"Baylock."

"All yinz doin' aight?" said a male voice with an exaggerated Pittsburgh accent. I laughed out loud.

"Hi, Dad," I said.

"Hey honey. Did you get settled in alright?"

"Dad, I've only been here for half an hour."

"I just wanted to make sure that everything was alright."

"Everything is fine. How was the flight home?"

"Boring and short. Irene's here, you want to talk to her?"

"Sure." Irene was my stepmom. She and her son Ryan came into our family about two years after my real mom, Sergeant First Class Sheila Baylock, was killed in action in Afghanistan three years ago. I was just starting my Ph. D. There was some rustling in the background and I heard a female voice say something to my dad before she came to the phone.

"Amelia?"

"Hi, Irene," I said. I wasn't angry that my dad had remarried. I found out that my mom had told him to remarry before she shipped out, and my dad had made sure that I was okay with it before he brought her home to meet me.

"How are you doing?"

"Good. I'm settled in and I've met the team. Now I just have to wait until we get called in to do a case," I said, leaning back and glancing over at Reid's desk. He was off of the phone and was looking at me.

 _My family_ , I mouthed to him. He nodded and started writing something down, but I looked away because Irene was telling me about her latest adventure with my stepbrother, Ryan.

"I think you got him convinced to try out for musical," she said.

"Oh good. He's got an awesome chance for at least Kenicke," I replied. Ryan was on the fence about trying out for our high school's production of  _Grease_  and I'd been constantly badgering him to sing, mainly because I knew that he could. "Where is he now?"

"Auditions were yesterday," Irene responded.

"Aw, why didn't he text me?"

"I think he did, but I don't know if it went through or not." I pulled out my cell phone and checked the text messages. Sure enough, there was one from Ryan giving me the time of his audition. I felt terrible.

"Oh man…I can't call him right now. Tell him I'm sorry and that I'll call him later. I've got to go," I said. "Tell Dad and Ryan that I love them and I'll call when I can."

"Alright. Love you, kiddo," Irene said.

"Love you too," I said and hung up.

"Your brother a singer?" Reid asked.

"Yeah, we both are," I replied.

"Wait, you sing?"

"Yep," I said, rotating my chair to face him. "Know any good karaoke bars nearby?" I could tell that he was about to say no when JJ stepped in.

"There's one about 5 blocks east of here," she said, walking past with a handful of files. "But we can talk about that later, we got called in. You'll like this one, newbie." Reid and I got up and started to head for the conference room.

"Newbie?" I heard Reid ask himself.

"It's a term for a rookie or newcomer, specifically popular in gaming circles," I put in. I finished saying that as we walked into the conference room.

"Jeeze, you've known him for 5 minutes and you already sound like him," Morgan said as he walked in behind us. I looked at Reid, confused. He just shook his head.

"Ignore him," he said quietly.

"Man, what's it going to be like, having two Reids around?" Emily wondered aloud.

"Hopefully they'll balance each other out and we can all retire," Rossi joked.

"Highly unlikely," Hotchner said, grabbing his file from JJ and sitting down. JJ passed the case files out and turned on a projector. A picture of a woman in her 30s appeared on the screen. She was smiling, had green eyes and brown hair and was wearing a Ben Roethlisberger throwback jersey.

"This is Sarah Cornwall of Bethel Park. Her body was found this morning under the 10th street Bridge in Pittsburgh. She was reported missing a week ago and she's the 2nd body they've found. The first was Jane Zolinski of Mt. Lebanon." JJ flipped to a new slide. It was a side by side of the two women in the morgue. "She was also found under the 9th street Bridge," JJ said, launching into briefing mode.

"Do these two victims have anything in common?" Rossi asked.

"Yeah, they do," I piped in. Everyone turned and looked at me. "Both were teachers at the Creative and Performing Arts High School in downtown Pittsburgh." When I was met with silence, I shrunk a little. "I did some shows there when I was a kid and they both were worked at least one each. Sarah was working on  _Les Miserables_  and Jane worked  _West Side Story_."

"Both victims were strangled and dumped just along the edge of the Monongahela River. Oh, and there's something else. This is the reason that we got assigned to this case." She flipped to another slide. There were words carved into the victims. JJ flipped to a new slide. "This was carved into each of the victims, split between the both of them."

 _I'm gonna wake up, yes and no_  
I'm gonna kiss some part of  
I'm gonna keep this secret  
I'm gonna close my body now

_ANALYZE THIS, BAYLOCK!_

"This is the main reason that the Pittsburgh PD called us," JJ continued, looking at me. I could feel my face heat up with a blush. "Sergeant Joe Baylock requested our team pointedly. Now, we're not sure what these are from…"

"They're lyrics," I said. "It's  _Die Another Day_ by Madonna. It was used in the James Bond movie with the same name. And Joe Baylock is my father, so he probably wants me home."

"Well, he's getting his wish. Wheels up in an hour," Hotchner said, walking out. I didn't know what to expect, but I had a feeling that this was going to me anything but a fun trip home.


	4. Not So Glorious Homecoming

While we were on the plane, we discussed the case at length. As soon as we were in the air, Hotchner, who told me to call him Hotch, looked right at me.

"You realize that this could be a little bit more than just a case, right? This could be a direct relation to you or your family," he said. Everyone else nodded and looked at me worriedly. I sighed and put down the case file that I had been studying.

"Look guys, I know that I'm the new kid on the block, but I'm not helpless. I had some of the best grades at the academy and a cop and a soldier raised me. I know how nasty things can get. So, let's just focus on the case and not worry about me," I said. There were a few moments of silence, and then we got back to the case.

"Alright, it's definite that this unsub wants something from someone specific, meaning either you, or your family," Rossi said, nodding at me. I nodded and started taking notes on a legal pad that I brought with me.

"Well, what does your family do? You said that you were raised by a cop and a soldier." Morgan said.

"My dad, obviously, is a cop. My mom was a soldier in the Army," I replied.

"Where is your mom now?" JJ asked. I just looked at her. I knew the look in my eyes would say it all, but I didn't care.

"Your mom's dead?" Rossi asked.

"Yeah. She was KOA in Afghanistan 3 years ago. That's how my dad and Irene met. Her husband was killed a year later in Iraq. They met at a support group for people who had lost a loved one in the war."

"Were you there with your dad?" Emily asked.

"No, I was just starting my Ph.D. at CUNY," I replied.

"Was there anyone else there that you were close to?" Hotch asked.

"My friend Kathleen's dad, Adam Herrera. His twin brother had died around the same time as my mom, but he had died in the hospital after sustaining heavy injuries in the same attack…he didn't make it off of the operating table. It was awful," I said, my voice cracking once at the horrible memory of the phone call that my dad had gotten two days after we had gotten the news that my mother had died.

Kathleen had called me in tears. She apologized almost right away for calling her like this, but she said that she really needed to talk to me. Then, she hit me with the news. It didn't help that I was already upset that my mom was gone, but Allen Herrera was like an uncle to me, and I was upset that the military surgeons weren't able to at least save his life. They had had the funerals the day after one another. I could remember not even wanting to get out of my black dress, but out of respect and because I knew what my mom would say, I made sure that I changed into something different, choosing my best concert attire from the choir I sang with. I still had nightmares sometimes, but no one knew except for Irene and my Dad.

I came back to reality when I felt JJ's hand on my shoulder. I looked up and saw her smiling sympathetically at me. I shook off the memory, returning her smile, and returned to my case at hand. I could almost hear Allen and my mother berating me for dwelling on their memory when there was work to be done and other people to help.

"So where are Adam and Kathleen now?" Morgan asked. I was ready to protest, but then I realized that this could help eliminate them as suspects, so I continued.

"Adam still lives in the West End with his new wife, Sandra. They got married a year ago. Kathleen's mother divorced him when Kathleen was 16. I'm not sure why, but she Kathleen graduated with me at the Academy and is working with the FBI office in DC," I said.

"You should go and see him when we land. Reid, you go with her," Hotch said. "JJ, you should go to see Amelia's dad."

"You'll see him when you set up shop at Pittsburgh PD. My dad's probably really involved in the case directly," I said.

"Is there anything else about your family that we should know?" Hotch asked.

"Irene married my dad 6 months ago. Ryan was staying with us off and on for 6 months before that," I replied.

"Why is that?" Reid asked, looking somewhat confused.

"Ryan has Asperger syndrome. He's higher functioning than some cases that I've studied before, but he still has episodes," I said. "He stayed with us so that he could mentally adjust his normal routine."

"That makes sense," Prentiss said. "New environment, new routine." I nodded. After a few minutes, I brought up the question that I knew needed answered.

"Hotch, are you sure that you want me to work this case? I know that I said I can handle myself, but if you think that I'm going to compromise the team, I can sit this one out," I said.

"Well, normally I would make you sit this out, but maybe it is a good idea that you and your dad get involved. After all, it can either involve him or you…we don't know," Hotch said. I nodded, but in my head I was praying that it involved me and not my father. I was sure that he was thinking the same thing since it was his chief who requested my team. My dad wanted to protect me, and I wanted to protect him, Irene and Ryan. Now, I had the power to do that, and I was going to do anything that I could to make sure that no one touch my family.


	5. What Did I Do?

When we landed, Reid and I headed for a black suburban that had been provided for us. Out of habit, I called my dad and told him that we landed. Since I started at the Academy, Dad had gotten a special cell phone that was coded and that only my mom, Ryan and I knew the number. That way, I could get ahold of him without anyone knowing my location or anyone spying on us. I told him that he was paranoid at first, but I realized when I got off the plane in Pittsburgh that it was a good idea. That said and done, I moved to get into the driver's seat.

"Are you sure you want to drive?" Reid asked, as if he was afraid that I would get lost or that I was nervous.

"Do you know where we're going?" I asked in reply.

"Um….no," he admitted. " I haven't had time to study the maps that much.

"Adam's house is in the West End of Pittsburgh…that area's tricky. I'll drive," I said, the tone of my voice ending that conversation. We hopped in the car and took off. It was 4 o'clock when we landed, so I took back roads and detours in order to avoid traffic.

"Wouldn't it be quicker to get on the…" Reid began, but I looked at him as I turned onto a back road in Greentree.

"Trust me, it's rush hour traffic, and the Parkway is NOT the place to be. We'll get the West End a lot quicker if we bypass it," I replied, and I was right. It took us half an hour to get from the Airport to the West End, whereas if I had gotten on the Parkway…well….we would have still been on it. The clock was ticking and I was ready to get this case underway. After another three minutes of navigating the West End, I parked about ten feet down the street from Adam's house. There was still a black flag flying from the porch, just as there had been when Allen died.

"Was your family close with the Herrera's?" Reid asked me as we got out.

"Yeah, we were really close. Allen and my Mom were in the same unit, so whenever they were stateside, our families would get together all the time," I said. "Adam never really healed after Allen died."

"Hence the black flag," Reid observed. As we got closer, I saw a red Camry parked in front of the house.

"Adam's home at least," I said, motioning to the car. We walked up the steep steps and Reid rang the doorbell. There was a moment of steps heading to the door and it opened to reveal a man in his mid 50s with dark hair and tan skin. What was sad to me was that Adam was only 46. He had aged horribly because of depression and stress. His brown eyes that were so like Kathleen's still looked sad behind a mask of happiness. Those eyes, however, lit up when they saw me.

"Amelia!" he exclaimed. "It's great to see you!"

"Hi there, Adam," I said, smiling. "It's great to see you too."

"When did you get in?"

"About 45 minutes ago."

"Well come on in," Adam said, his joyful voice showing me that he had finally begun to heal. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" My smile faltered.

"Actually, Adam, this isn't a social call," I said. He stopped on his way to the kitchen to turn and look at me, slightly confused.

"This is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid, one of my colleagues at the BAU. We're here because of the recent murders downtown." Adam nodded and continued to the kitchen.

"Yes, I heard about them in the news. Your father said that he was going to contact the FBI and see if he could get you down here to help," he said. "Have a seat, I'll be out in a minute." I led Reid into the living room. Pictures were now up of Kathleen's graduation from the Academy, some of which included me. There was also a shadow box above their fireplace with a picture of Allen and some of his medals that he won while serving. The flag from his coffin was in it's own box on the mantle. We turned around when we heard Adam come back it. He tossed a bottle of water at me, and one at Reid. "Please, sit down," Adam said, motioning to the two sofas that were facing each other. He sat down on one while I sat down on the other. Reid was still looking at the pictures on the mantle.

"Have you already talked to the police?" I asked as I unscrewed the cap and took a swig from the water bottle.

"Yes. Your dad came over and talked to me personally. I've been out of town for a couple of days. I wanted to help Kathleen move in to her apartment in DC," he said. "And before you ask, here's my boarding pass and a receipt from my hotel room in DC." He slid two papers across the coffee table that was between the sofas. I looked them over and saw that they were authentic. Adam had spent way too much time around my dad and me.

"Here's the thing, Adam," I said. "The body that we recently found has been dead for about a week. A small flash of fear crossed his face.

"Adam, I want you to know that we don't suspect you at all. But," I said, reaching into my pocket and pulled out DNA swab. "If you would be willing to volunteer a sample, I'm almost positive that we can rule you out as a suspect."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Adam said. "I'll volunteer, but it's still not the main thing that I'm worried about."

"Mr. Herrera, is there something that you're not telling us?" Reid asked. Adam was quiet for a few minutes, then he started crying, something that I hadn't seen him do when his brother died.

"I thought that you were here about Kathleen," he almost whispered. My heart stopped.

"What about her?" I asked.

"She came home with me, to pick up some things that she left in her room, and then she left ten minutes later. I got a call from her supervisor two hours ago. She never showed up!" He broke down sobbing. I couldn't say anything. Now Kathleen was missing. Who was this freak? What did he want? What did I do to him?


	6. Tiny Detail, Huge Effect

I got the DNA swab from Adam and drove to the Pittsburgh PD as fast as the streets and speed limits would allow me to drive. While we were on the way, I got Garcia on the phone.

"Oracle of the FBI, speak mortal," came the voice.

"Garcia, I need you to do something for me," I said.

"Name it."

"I need to flag a cell phone and credit cards for Kathleen Susan Herrera."

"It shall be done, but can I ask why?"

"She's missing." There was silence on the other end for a few seconds.

"We'll find her, Bay," Garcia said. As my mind registered her new nickname for me, I smiled.

"'Bay'? I like it," I said.

"I shall alert you at the first sign of activity," Garcia replied, a smile in her voice.

"You rock, Garcia," I said.

"I know," she quipped, and hung up. The rest of the drive took me about 5 minutes. When we pulled in, I jumped out of the car and was at the door before Reid could even shut his door.

"Amelia, slow down!" I barely heard him call to me. I was too nervous to slow down, though. For all I knew, there would soon be another body and it may just be my best friend. I ran in to the precinct and almost threw Adam's DNA sample at the first tech that I saw.

"Make sure this is on file and run it against the bodies we've found," I said, speaking a mile a minute. She nodded and walked off briskly to do her job. I didn't recognize her, I realized after she had walked off. For the first time, I stopped and looked around. To my surprise, there were only a few faces that I didn't recognize. A few officers stopped and said hi to me and congratulated me on my new position. I thanked them quickly before they bustled off. The whole precinct was buzzing. It seemed like the whole force was on the case. I half expected everyone to be in one place, but it was the exact opposite.

Morgan was talking to two officers that I remembered to be John Coles and Jerry McDonald. Jerry was in his early 40s and bald with dark brown eyes and John was in his mid-30s with bright red hair and green eyes. They generally were in charge of drug busts. JJ was as the front desk, putting together what I guessed was the beginnings of her press release with Karla Burkett, the publicist for the precinct, though the boys called her the mother of the station. There were female officers, but Karla was the oldest of the women – young at 52 - and had been there the longest. The experience showed in her graying black hair and knowing dark blue eyes. Prentiss was on the phone back in the conference room, most likely with Garcia back in Quantico, and Hotch was nowhere to be seen. My guess? He was talking with my dad.

"Wow, it's busy in here," Reid said from my right side. He had just cleared the front desk with his FBI ID. Marissa, the girl who was at the front desk at the time, knew who I was and normally just let me walk in.

"I don't think I've ever seen it this busy," I commented.

"We'd better get started," Reid said, and headed to where Prentiss was talking on her cell phone. I was just about to follow him when a new officer stopped me.

"Agent Baylock, Sergeant Baylock would like to see you," he said, his manner official. I inwardly smiled at the formalities. "If you could follow me," he began, but I stopped him.

"I know where his office is, but thank you, Officer…?" I said, looking for a nametag on his uniform.

"Kerchinski. Officer Ed Kerchinski, ma'am," he said.

"Kerchinski. Again, thank you," I smiled. He smiled back and went on his way. I headed back to the office that I knew all to well. Sure enough, Chief Sam Wilson and my father were standing there. Sam was in his late 40s. His full head of hair was combed back and already grey and his eyes were blue and had many stories to tell. Despite all of that, he was physically fit. My father, Joe, was just into his 40s and balding, though his hair was still dark brown. His green eyes looked tired, but most likely from no sleep over the past few days.

"Welcome home, Doc," Sam said, a small smile on his face. He had started calling me that when I graduated with my Masters Degree from Ball State University.

"Thanks, Sam," I said. "I wish this were a social visit."

"So do I," my dad said. "I'm still glad you're home, though."

"Yeah, me too, Dad. Hotch," I turned to my supervisor. "Adam just told me that Kathleen never reported for duty."

"What? Adam's girl?" dad asked.

"Yeah, I just came from his house. He told me," I replied.

"Have Garcia," Hotch began.

"Flag her credit cards and cell phone? Already did," I said. Hotch looked at me for a minute, then simply nodded and continued.

"Do we have anything else on the bodies that we found?" he asked Sam. Sam picked up two folders on his desk and handed them to Hotch, who handed one to me. It was the autopsy reports for the two dead teachers.

"COD is strangulation. The cuts are postmortem, and other than that and their jobs they had nothing to do with each other." I read out.

"Get these to Prentiss and Reid. JJ and Morgan can read them when they're done with…whatever it is that they're doing," Hotch said, handing me his file.

"I'll get Marissa to make copies of these," I said, taking the file from him. Hotch nodded and turned back to my Dad and Sam. I tried to act as professional as I could, but my mind was in turmoil. I was surprised that it was letting me think straight. We had a possible serial killer in my hometown, he or she was targeting my family, and now my best friend was missing. I had to consider the possibility that she was AWOL, but that thought quickly left my head. Kathleen would never do that, and I knew it. Marissa had those copies in my hands within minutes and I was passing out the autopsy to the rest of the team. As I did, Morgan grabbed my arm.

"Hey, you okay kid?" he asked quietly. "You look a little pissed."

"I'm fine, Morgan," I said, a little too quickly. He gave me the skeptical don't-try-to-trick-the-profiler look. I looked around and the rest of the team was looking at me with the same look. I sighed in defeat, realizing that I shouldn't try to conceal my emotions. "I'll talk about it later," I said as Hotch came into the room with my dad and Sam. The three men looked at me, Hotch with some mild concern that was masked behind his professionalism, Sam with some confusion, and my Dad with thinly veiled worry. I managed a half-hearted smile before Hotch started talking.

"Alright, so what do we have?"

"The victims had already been dead for about two days, but they had been in the river for about a day. It was long enough for the water to wash away any DNA evidence on either bodies," Prentiss began.

"It's been rainy lately, so the currents have sped up on the rivers," Dad pointed out.

"That should cut the time in the water by about a third," Reid said, looking at a topographical map of Pittsburgh and the surrounding area.

"So, we're looking at about 8 hours or so, but the body wasn't discovered until yesterday, so it's possible that the body could have been in the water but just sitting under the bridge at the dump site," I said.

"Was there anything else unique about the body?" Morgan asked Sam.

"They did find a cement block tied to the body so that it wouldn't move more than a few feet," Sam replied.

"Were there any tire tracks?" Hotch asked.

"No, nothing like that," Dad said.

"Okay, Reid and Rossi, head down to the crime scene and take a look around. Morgan, Prentiss, I want you to start interviewing the neighbors around the area to see if they heard anything like a boat or something early in the morning. Baylock, I want you to stay with me and start working the victimology. Alright, let's move," Hotch ordered. Everyone nodded and those who were leaving grabbed a jacket or bag and walked out. I turned to my copy of the autopsy report, sat down, and started scrutinizing over everything. My mind started working in double time.

 _Okay, so they were both strangled. There were marks around the victims' necks so that means that there were no fingerprints, not that there would be anyway._  As I looked at the photos, I noticed something different about the bodies. Zolinski's neck had a crossed mark on her neck, while Cornwall had a straight line, and Cornwall's was deeper and had cut the skin. I grabbed both pictures of their necks and stuck them on the pegboard that held a map of Pittsburgh, other pictures of the crime scene and victims, along with some notes about them – what they did, how they died, where they were found, etc. I stuck the pictures of their necks underneath their respective pictures of when they were alive and looked at them.

"You have something?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah, look at these ligature marks," I said, pointing to either picture. Hotch got up and stood beside me. "Zolinski was strangled from the front while Cornwall was strangled from behind, and by someone much stronger."

"The MO is too different. The first victim…the unsub wanted to watch her die. The second victim was strangled from behind and much harder, probably to kill her faster. Sarah Cornwall was killed with remorse, while Jane Zolinski was not. We're looking at two unsubs."


	7. Emotions Running High

Hotch got the rest of the team together and we discussed the possibility of there being two unsubs. Everyone agreed that it was the most likely reason for the change in MO.

"Way to pick that up, kiddo," Morgan said to me, giving me a small smile. I turned pink and looked down, smiling sheepishly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Prentiss and JJ smiling at each other. Curious, I allowed myself to open my empathic mind to gather a bit more info on my team.

Oh yeah, that's something else. I'm empathic. That means that I can pick up on emotions of other people. I found out while I was still in college, but since then I've learned to turn it off. Otherwise I would start crying for no reason because I would pick up on some girl's emotions over a recent breakup or start laughing because some boy just got laid the night before and totally blew her off afterwards. Nevertheless, I opened my mind and focused on my team.

Hotch was giving me a very serious mood. He wanted to catch whoever was doing this and make sure that they were put away for a very long time, but he wasn't getting too attached to the case. Underneath all of the seriousness, however, I felt an amount of compassion that was particularly strong. I felt like I was mourning someone very close to me, almost the same as the mourning that I still felt for my mother.  _What is that?_

When I focused on Morgan, I felt this compulsion to go the victim's families and tell them that I would do everything that I could to put these psychos away. I wanted to catch them in the act and bring them in myself.  _So this is why Morgan is so intense,_  I thought as I pulled back to myself.

Prentiss' emotions were pretty level. The amount of remorse that was normal for this situation was still there, but I still noticed that she was calm and thinking things through. She didn't allow her emotions to totally take over: the mark of a good agent. Not that the others were bad agents, but I had always been taught – by both my teachers at the Academy and my parents – that if you get to emotionally involved, it can cloud your judgment. I wasn't getting that from Prentiss. However, behind all of that, I could feel a need. There was something egging her on, but I couldn't tell what it was.

JJ was similar to Prentiss, but there was a nagging of wanting to go back home. I remembered that she had a son back home, so that didn't surprise me as much. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out how to break this news to the press without causing mass panic, something that we all wanted to avoid.

Reid was something different. While I could feel his mind racing even faster than JJ's there was something in the background…something that I couldn't place. It almost felt like there was a monster lurking in his soul and it was just waiting for the moment to spring and claim him. I could feel confusion, quickly replaced by understanding. It was an endless cycle. But that fear was still there. What was it?

There was one emotion that my whole team shared, even if it was only brief and weaker in some than others. They were all surprised and proud…of me. That was the only emotion that truly caught me off guard and caused me to blush even more. I closed my mind off and focused back on my job. Everyone was reading the case file over again, except for Reid. I looked at him, and he looked right back at me. I opened my mind again and found that he was confused again, but the confusion was directed towards me. He was trying to understand me the way that he understood everything else. He was profiling me. Sealing my mind off again, I gave him a small smile and looked away. I wondered if he saw the message behind my smile.

_I know what you're trying to do. Good luck ;)_

"Alright, I think we're ready to give the profile," Hotch said. Everyone nodded and left the conference room for the bullpen. Sam gathered the force together and we started to give the profile.

"We've determined that there are two unsubs," Hotch began. "Most likely a couple. They obviously have something against Sergeant Baylock and his family, so don't be afraid to go to him or Agent Baylock for questions."

"They have a dominant-submissive relationship," Morgan continued. "One person orchestrates the murder and is in it whole-hearted, while the other is more remorseful and unwilling to commit the murders."

"Because of this, the couple will give off certain types of body language. The dominant will be very self-confident and strong willed, walking very tall and looking straight ahead while walking down the street, while the submissive will walk around looking down or following behind the partner almost like a pet," Reid chipped in.

"We don't know the gender yet, or even the type of relationship. Keep in mind that it could be someone you least expect. Each victim was treated in a way that there is no DNA evidence on the bodies. This most likely means that one of them has had training in law enforcement," I said. I noticed that some of the cops started looking at each other. "I'm not saying that it's a cop, but there is probably some training background."

"One of them may try and insert themselves into the investigation. If we pick up any volunteers, then we need to make sure to give them a background check before allowing them to help. On the other hand, one or both will know absolutely nothing about it, not even from what has been said on the news. Regardless of all of that, we know one thing for certain: the Baylock family is involved somehow," Hotch finished.

"You're not saying that Joe and Amelia could be the…" one of the older cops began, but I held up my hand.

"We're not saying that my father and I are the killers. We are just saying that we are involved. You can ask my father if you want. Both of us have nothing to hide and we will happily answer your questions," I said. There was a moment of silence, then Sam got up.

"Alright, you know what to look for, so let's get going," he said. There was a rustle of movement as everyone left. As I was heading back to the conference room, my dad grabbed my arm.

"My office, now," he said softly. I watched him walk away and whisper something in Hotch's ear. When Hotch looked at me, I knew that he had told him the same thing. Right then and there, I knew what was coming, so I started to get my argument together. I followed Hotch into my father's office and shut the door behind me. My father sat on his desk and looked at me. I knew what he was going to say, but I wanted him to say it first.

"Amelia, I want you to go back to Quantico," he said. "I don't want you involved any more than you have to be." I sighed and looked at Hotch, then my dad.

"Dad, this is what I do for a living. How can I help my team if I'm not here?"

"What about your tech girl? She's still back in Quantico."

"Garcia's equipment is all back in Quantico, plus she almost never goes out into the field. She's not an SSA, dad, I am. For once, please just let me do this."

"Sergeant, we really need Amelia here," Hotch put in. "This is her hometown and she can get us around the city easier."

"I don't want my daughter to end up a victim of these psychopaths!" my dad practically screamed. Promptly, he calmed himself as much as he could and he looked at me. "How do I feel?" he asked me. Hotch looked at him and then back at me. I sighed and opened my mind again. Sure enough, a wave of emotion washed over me. It was an intense mix of love and worry. My dad loved me, and I knew that. I was his only biological child and his only girl. I knew that he loved Ryan and Irene just as much as he loved my mom and me. But now, I was really getting a taste of his love for me. He was genuinely afraid for my life, more so than I was. I could tell that he wanted the unsubs to be after him. He knew that I could take care of myself, but he had developed a motherly instinct when my mom was shipped out the first time. He had been able to turn it off whenever she had been home, but I could still remember him calling me every weekend while I was away at school and while I was at the Academy. Coming back to reality, I realized that I was crying, my dad was crying and Hotch was standing in the corner, as if giving us enough privacy to at least give us our moment but still be in the conversation. My dad and I hugged tightly.

"Dad, I love you, but this is exactly why I have to finish this case. Mom wouldn't want me to back off simply because my life was in danger. She didn't, and you don't, so why would I?" I felt regretful understanding when I finished my sentence. My dad nodded, gave me one final hug, and walked out of his office, leaving me and Hotch in there.

"What did he mean when he asked you how he felt?" Hotch asked me.

"I'm empathic," I said simply. "I can pick up on other people's emotions. It comes in handy when you want to find out if someone is lying. I mean, I know how to do that anyway, but feeling their nervousness and hope that we don't find out the truth helps a bit too," I added. Hotch looked at me evenly, though I could see the confusion and curiosity in his dark brown eyes. After a few moments, I broke the silence. "You want to know if I can feel what you're feeling right now, don't you?" I asked. His eyes grew wide for a split second before returning to their normal state.

"You picked up on that?"

"No, I was reading your facial expression and I could see the curiosity in your eyes," I replied.

"Well then, what am I feeling?" Hotch asked. I checked for only a split second before replying.

"You're very serious about this case, like all cases that you've worked in the past. You're worried about me and my involvement in this case, especially since it's my first. Don't worry, Hotch. I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself," I said with a smile. He nodded and I swore that I saw a bit of a grin.

"Alright, but if you feel the least bit worried for you life, I want you to catch the first flight back to Quantico and wait for us, understand?" he said. I nodded. He walked out of the office, leaving me alone in there. I knew that I could very well be in over my head, but right now, I could feel my mom encouraging me onwards. I promised her and myself that I wouldn't let her down.


	8. Please, No!

We went back to the hotel for the night, resolving to get some rest and wait until morning. I knew that I probably wouldn't sleep, but I would definitely do some more work. Once I was in my room, I showered, changed into some PJs, and sat down at the table to look over my notes for the day. Everything was pointing to someone that I knew, but who? I knew a lot of people, but none that I could consider to be enemies.  _What did I do to deserve this?_ I kept asking myself as I read my notes over and over, getting to the point of futility. Suddenly, there was a knock at my door. Most recent events had made me a bit paranoid, so I approached the door carefully.

"Who is it?" I called, staying within reach of my gun.

"It's Spencer," said a familiar voice. "Can I come in?" With a sigh of relief, I unbolted the door and opened it. Spencer was still wearing his button down shirt and tie from today, along with those brown corduroy pants and converse sneakers. He looked a little tired, but then again, it was about one in the morning, so I probably looked no better.

"Hey," I said, stepping aside so he could come in. He walked in, saw my notes on the table, and turned back to me with a wry smile on his face.

"Can't sleep either, huh?" he asked.

"Nah," I said, knowing that it didn't take a genius to figure that one out. "What's been keeping you up?"

"I'm worried about you," he said, meandering over to the table so he could look at my notes. I was confused.

"You're worried about me?" I asked.

"Is that so surprising?" he asked, looking up from a page to look at me.

"A bit, yeah," I replied. "Do you want to sit down?" I asked after an awkward moment of silence. I know he had already read over my notes about 3 times since he started looking at them, so if he'd had any questions about them, he would have asked them already. He quietly sat down and looked at me.

"I remember what it was like, being the new kid on the block," he began as I sat down across from him. "I've been the target of a case once or twice, and I've been in my fair share of danger. It's not easy. I guess, I really just don't want to see you have the same problems that I did, Amelia." By now, he was leaning over the table, hands slightly extended. I gazed into his brown eyes, almost losing myself in them. Out of habit, I searched his emotions. They were as sincere as the look on his face, but there was something else in there, something that I couldn't put my finger on. I glanced down at his hands, and they were turned up, as if asking for mine.  _Do I want to take this chance? We can't fraternize with coworkers, it's not allowed,_  said the logical side of my brain.  _It's probably just friendship. If he has done this before, then he probably genuinely does care about you_ , said the other side. Deciding to take a risk, I placed my hands on his, and he grasped them. I felt my heartbeat quicken, and heat rise to my face. We just looked into each other's eyes for a minute. We didn't really study each other, as was the norm. We just looked. I saw pain in his eyes; pain that has stemmed from a past that I didn't know about.

"Spencer," I said quietly, almost breathless. From the way he kept looking at me, I could tell that he knew what I saw.

"My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic," he said. It came out so fast that it shocked the both of us. In a million years, I couldn't have guess what followed. "I had her put into a special care facility when I was 18. My father walked out when I was about 8, and there were days when my mother couldn't get out of bed. It was one of the hardest things that I've ever had to do in my life. I write her letters every day, but I almost never go and see her." He paused for a minute and looked away, gaining his composure. When he looked back at me, he had tears in his eyes. "Schizophrenia is hereditary. I just have this fear that one day, I'll snap and end up in the same situation." I was dumbfounded. Spencer had just poured his soul out to me. Now, I knew what that monster in the back of his mind was. It was what he felt the schizophrenia was; a monster waiting for the right moment to strike. I grasped his hands, trying to reassure him. When that didn't work, I got up, walked over to him, and pulled him into a hug.

"It always happens to people with a higher than average IQ," he said, his voice suddenly monotone. I looked down at him, and the look of pain and sadness was gone, replaced by determination. "I won't let it happen to someone else," he said. Suddenly, he stood up and hugged me back. Shocked, all I could do was keep hugging him. He felt warm, and incredibly wonderful to hug, which was contrary to his skinny figure. There was also a scent about him that I liked. I didn't know if it was cologne or just soap, but I made a mental note to ask him later. I allowed myself to stand there for a minute, just taking everything in. For some reason, I felt safe. The logical side of my brain was yelling at me again, but I didn't care. We were in my room, he had just opened himself up to me, and now he was showing that he cared. Somehow, I felt so safe. "I'm here because I care about you, Amelia. You're a lot like me, and people like us need to stick together." I was about to answer when there was another knock at the door. I looked at Spencer, who looked as suspicious as I felt. I went to the door, and I heard Spencer put a hand on his gun.

"Who is it?" I called. There was no answer. I looked through the peephole, and there was nothing. I looked back at him and shook my head, indicating that no one was there. Slowly, I unbolted the door and opened it. There was no one in the hallway on either side. Then, I looked down. A small, lumpy, brown envelope was sitting there with my name on it. Behind me, I heard Spencer pick up the phone and dial. Curiosity had me, and I knelt down to the envelope and picked it up.

"Amelia!" Spencer exclaimed, running to me. "What if it's a bomb?!" He was right of course, but something was telling me otherwise.

"If the UnSub is after me, then I think he would want to watch me die as he killed me," I reasoned, going off of what I knew about him.

"At least use this," Spencer said, and handed me a rubber glove. I took it, put it on, and slowly opened the package. There was no Earth-shattering kaboom, so I figured it was safe. I felt a very odd sense of foreboding, as if I wasn't going to like what I saw. However, if I didn't actually look at it, I may be ignoring a piece of important evidence that could find this creep. I reached inside, and found something cold and hard. It was an engraved piece of metal. It felt like a badge...

My heart dropped to the floor, right next to my stomach. I slowly pulled it out, and dropped it with a scream. Hotch, Rossi, and Derek came running out of their rooms, guns drawn. Prentiss and JJ ran out too. JJ gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. I heard Prentiss whisper "Oh no." Rossi uttered some profanity under his breath and looked at me. My knees went weak and I fell to the floor, trying to get away from the badge. I couldn't stop myself from crying. Spencer just held me close, staring at the badge with horror on his face. Hotch just looked at it, and Derek gave frustrated sigh, as if his worst fear had been realized. None of them wanted to see what they were seeing, but it was right there in front of all of us.

It was a police badge, with my dad's last name and badge number, and bloodstains.

The UnSub had my dad.


	9. Confessions All Around

I don't remember falling asleep, or even getting into bed. When I woke up, I was confused for a few minutes as I took in my surroundings. Then, everything hit me with a wave of fear, depression, and anger. I half expected to start crying, but the tears didn't come.

"Glad to see you're awake," said a quiet male voice. Looking over at the window, I saw Derek sitting where Spencer had been sitting the night before.

"Where is everyone?" I asked.

"At the police station. They all left as soon as you passed out," he replied, getting up and handing me a glass of water. I took it and gently took a few sips. Going by the horrible taste in my mouth, and my sore throat, I had been a mess last night. Derek sat down on the edge of my bed and waited for me to finish.

"Why didn't they leave sooner?" I asked.

"You wouldn't let pretty boy go," Derek said, grinning sadly. "You kept on hanging on to him and begging for him not to go, even after we managed to get you in bed." I blushed and looked down. "Hey, don't beat yourself up, kid. You two are a lot alike. It's no surprise that you two got attached to each other. Besides, not too many people can take what you're going through that well." I slowly sat up and looked at him.

"Hotch probably wants me back in Quantico, huh?" I said, ready to hear the order. The shame of being sent home on my first case would be almost unbearable. I felt like I would be shaming my mother.

"Actually, Hotch wants you down there as soon as you feel able," Derek replied, although his tone was stern when he said the phrase 'as soon as you feel able'. "Listen to me: that means that if you don't feel like you can stomach today, then you need to stay here. I'll stay with you since you can't be alone, but that still means you have to feel ready. It's up to you, Bay." I closed my eyes and did a quick scan of my body. Physically, my stomach felt a little weak, but besides that, I was fine. Mentally, I was more determined than ever. If my father was still alive, then dammit, I was going to find him. I opened my eyes and locked my gaze with Derek.

"I'm getting dressed. Let's get this son of a bitch," I said. Derek merely nodded, seeing the determination in my eyes.

We got to the station an hour later, and found a crew for every news station in the tri-state area. I groaned. I knew a lot of those reporters, so they probably would recognize me. Without another word, Derek got out of the car, walked over to my door, and opened it a bit, holding out his hand. I sighed, and put my game face on. Sure enough, as soon as I got out of the car, I was spotted and bombarded with questions. As I reached the steps of the police station, I turned to the reporters, who fell silent.

"At this point in time, I cannot comment any further on the investigation. All I can say is that I still plan on participating, and on behalf of my family, and the families of those we've lost, my team and I will find the person behind this and ensure that they are brought to justice." Leaving it at that, I turned around and walked inside with Derek as two armed officers shut the doors behind me and stood there, keeping the reporters at bay. As we walked through the bullpen, several officers either smiled at me, or made promises that we would catch this person, describing him or her with varied words ranging from 'bastard' to 'motherfucker'. All I could do was nod my thanks and smile, wanting instead to focus on the task at hand. When I got to the office, everyone immediately got up and looked at me.

"How are you feeling?" Hotch asked.

"Better," I replied, looking at the rest of the team. "I appreciate everyone worrying about me, but Dad and Mom would want me to do my job, especially to protect my family and the rest of the city." Then, I walked over to Spencer. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure," he replied, and followed me into my dad's office. I shut the door, and stayed facing it. The windows were all covered with blinds, so no one could see us. It was rough being in there, but it was the most private place I could think of. With a sigh, I began a prepared speech.

"Spencer, I don't know what happened last night," I said, still facing the door. "I don't remember what I did or said, so if I said anything inappropriate to you, I want apologize." I turned around to look at him, and found him inches from me. My breath hitched in my chest and my heart rate escalated.

"I wanted to ask you about that," he said, his voice low. "I know you blacked out last night, and I don't blame you. Before I left, you said that you cared about me. Is that true?" He kept eye contact with me the whole time.  _What the hell am I supposed to say?_ I thought. Honesty was the best policy, my mom always taught me. I took a breath...

"Yes," I said. "I do care about you." Spencer stepped back and leaned against the desk, seeming to take it all in. I immediately regretted what I said, and walked over to him. "Spencer, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." and he cut me off with a kiss. It was innocent, soft, and very kind, but full of emotion I now know that we both shared. I leaned in just slightly, returning the gesture. Something about it felt so right that I just let it happen. All of the rules and regulations just flew out the window, and for a few blissful moments, it was just us. When we broke apart, we just looked at each other. There was a complete, unspoken conversation between us, understanding what being together would mean for us. So, we would keep it a secret, at least until the case was over, and we would give proper notice and deal with the bridges later.

"I'll keep you safe," I promised him, placing my hand on the side of his jaw, gently cupping his face. He mimicked my action, just looking at me, a small smile on his face..

"We'll keep each other safe," he said quietly. I grinned, and leaned my face into his hand gently, savoring the feel of his skin on mine. "It'll be okay," he promised. We straightened up and walked out of the office, keeping our own emotions in check. As we walked back into the back room, everyone looked us over, profiling us both. I wondered if anyone would pick it up, but if they did, then no one let on. Hotch, Derek, and Rossi were working on retracing my dad's steps, JJ was preparing a press release, Prentiss was on the phone with Garcia, and Spencer busied himself with the whiteboard that held pictures and evidence. I sat down and started reviewing the files on all of the victims. The only thing that they had in common was me. Irene and Ryan didn't know the first two victims, so that ruled them out. Adam had evidence from where he was for the first two victims...but not my dad.

"Did anyone call Adam Herrera?" I asked out loud. Everyone looked at each other. Prentiss got Garcia on speaker.

"Bay, are you alright honey?" was the first question I heard from the bubbly tech on the other line, although she didn't sound as bubbly as normal.

"Yes, Garcia, I'm okay. Listen, I need you to track Adam Herrera's cell phone. I want to know where he is," I said, and gave her the number. There was a few seconds of typing as Garcia started searching for the number.

"It's either dead or turned off. There's no signal," she replied.  _Damn_ , I cursed internally, wishing she hadn't said that.

"Get someone down to his house now. We need to know where he was last night," Hotch said, calling for another officer. One nodded, grabbed his partner, and took off out the door. I got worried, so I pulled out my cell and called Adam myself. It went straight to voicemail.  _Please, Adam. Please don't be involved. I can't stand to lose anyone else_ , I prayed. A small part of me knew that I didn't know that my father was dead, but I always prepared myself for the worst and hoped for the best. As I sat there, hoping. The sound of the door caught my attention. A sudden sense of fear and sorrow overwhelmed me. I stood up and saw Adam Herrera walking in, wearing a coat that I didn't recognize.

"Adam?" I called to him. When he saw me, he started to cry.

"I'm sorry, Amelia. I didn't have a choice! She would have killed me if she didn't," he said through the tears, and opened his jacket to reveal a bomb. Every officer present pulled out his or her gun, including me. I saw the detonator in his left hand and trained my gun on that wrist.

"Adam, please don't do this," I said, trying to reason with him. "I know you miss your brother, but this isn't the way to do this."

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I don't want to see him or your mom this way. They would never forgive me. But she said she would frame you for all of the murders if I didn't do this."

"Who said that?" I asked. Suddenly, there was a shout from behind me. I whipped around to see someone holding a hand gun and pointing it at me. I didn't know how much more of this I could take. The face was one that I somehow knew I would see, but was hoping that I didn't. I sighed and felt so defeated.

"Kathleen?"


	10. It's My Fault

My best friend was standing in front of me holding a gun, and her father was behind me with a bomb strapped to his chest. I didn't lower my gun, despite some part of me wanting to trust her.

"I thought you would have figured it out by now, Amelia," Kathleen sneered. "All of the clues were there. I practically handed you the case on a silver platter."

"Where is my father?" I asked, choosing to ignore her for the time being.

"Oh yes, your precious daddy," she replied, starting to move slowly around me. Neither of us lowered our guns, nor broke eye contact with each other. Kathleen was very sure of herself as she moved. I didn't see an ounce of caution in her expression. There was a bit of glee, but mostly something that I can only classify now as insanity. "You should tell him to stop working so 's so easy to get everyone distracted."

"Where is he?" I repeated, getting angry. Kathleen sighed, annoyed.

"Ugh, you're no fun," she said. "Don't you want to know how, or why? No playful banter?"

"There will be plenty of time for that when you're in custody, Agent Herrera," Hotch said from next to me. By now, Kathleen had moved toward the bullpen, and was dangerously close to Spencer and Derek.

"This doesn't concern you, SSA Hotchner," Kathleen spat at him, still looking at me. "This is between Amelia, me," and she turned around, pulling her gun on Spencer, "and Spencer." My stomach dropped.

"This is between you and me, Kathleen," I said firmly. "Leave everyone else out of this."

"Oh no, Amelia. This is about Spencer as well," she replied. I immediately noticed her demeanor changed. Then, it hit me.

"You're jealous that I got the BAU job," I said quietly. "You just wanted to be close to him. You're obsessed with him."

"I am NOT obsessed!" Kathleen snapped, reeling back at me. "I was perfect for the job. Remember the day we got to tour the facility, and we stopped at their office? Spencer and I had a connection!" She was becoming unstable, and I moved my finger to the trigger, ready to shoot. Then, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver cylinder.

"She's got the detonator!" called another officer.

"Lower your weapons, or we all go down!" Kathleen threatened. I felt my heart rate quicken. Slowly, all of the officers lowered their guns, including most of my team...except me. I wasn't going to give in as easy. "Do it Amelia!" commanded Kathleen, and she turned her gun back on Spencer. "Or I kill him!"

"Kathleen, if you shoot him, you won't be able to be with him," I said, trying to calm her down. Some of the officers had looks of disbelief on their faces. A lot of them knew Kathleen as well as they did me. I was surprised too, until I started thinking about how Kathleen was as a kid.

After her mom left, Kathleen was spoiled by everyone. Her dad and mom were in a sort of competition for her love, and she took full advantage of it. She never had a shirt that she wore more than once, and she went on more trips than anyone in our class in high school. It didn't help that she didn't have siblings, so there were no other children to take care of. Whenever she didn't get something she wanted, Kathleen would throw a tantrum. The worst one I remember was when she actually threw something at her dad. I had wondered a few times if she was bipolar, but Adam never took her to counseling.

"Yes I will. I'll kill us all, and we can be together forever," Kathleen said, becoming less and less rational, which made her far more dangerous. Spencer's face was a picture of pure fear. He looked at me, asking for help. Slowly, I put my gun down.

"Okay. If you leave everyone else alone, you can have me. All I ask is that you let everyone else go, including my father," I said. Kathleen laughed, a hysterical laugh. She'd completely lost it.

"Oh yes, your dear daddy. Poor Uncle Joe," she said through the giggles. "It would be so sad if you lost another family member, like I did." I was starting to get angry.

"Kathleen, stop. You're only digging yourself into a deeper hole," I said. "Let everyone go, and you can have me."

"But it's not you I want, is it Amelia?" She started to lead Spencer toward the door, keeping her eyes on everyone, including her father. Adam started to follow her, but she turned her gun on him as well. "Oh no, Daddy. You're going to stay here until my dear Spencer and I are good and gone." Adam's hopeful look turned to one of fear.

"Kathleen, please," he begged her.

"You want to make me happy, don't you Daddy?" Kathleen said, putting on a little girl's voice. "Mom would do this for me."

"Your mother only gave you what you wanted to hurt me. She didn't do anything for you!" Adam shouted. My jaw dropped. I had never seen him yell at Kathleen; ever. Something told me that, for the first time, Adam was taking control of his life. His ex-wife had been extremely controlling, and only wanted the very best, even though Adam didn't make much money. When she left, she had tried to take Kathleen with her, but at the time, Kathleen didn't want to leave her friends at school, including me. "She only wanted to keep you with her just to spite me." Kathleen's expression became one of confusing, and then fury.

"You're a liar," she said quietly. "You're a liar! She loves me! You never loved me! You just wanted to keep me to spite her!" She was raging by now. She ran out of the station with Spencer in tow. She made it to one of our SUVs, and then the bomb started beeping. Everyone looked at it, and saw a five second count down.

"Get down!" an officer screamed, and everyone dove under the nearest desk.

I don't remember a whole lot of what happened after that. My ears were ringing, there was a dull sound of people shouting, and I couldn't see straight. I could just smell something burning, and the horrible odor of burnt flesh. That seemed to register because I remember throwing up. A few minutes later, someone grabbed me and pulled me out of the building. As my ears stopped ringing and my vision sharpened, I was sitting in an ambulance with a paramedic dabbing my forehead with a cotton swab.

"What happened?" I asked.

"You're going to be fine, Agent Baylock," the paramedic said, smiling at me. "Minor cuts and bruises only." I just nodded and sat there, letting him finish his work. As he was finishing, Hotch came over to me.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Okay, I guess," I said. "Did she take of our cars?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I have Garcia tracking it now."

"Hopefully, she didn't disable the GPS tracker," I said. "I'm sorry, Hotch. All of the evidence was there. I guess I didn't want to believe it."

"It's not your fault," Hotch said. "It's not normal to suspect one of our own."

"But because I didn't just follow the evidence, Adam is dead, Spencer's been taken hostage, and my father might be dead," I snapped. I was furious with myself. I could feel the tears coming to my eyes. I felt a hand on my shoulder, looked up, and saw Hotch with a deadly serious, but sympathetic, look in his eyes.

"Any one of us could have put this together, Amelia," he said. My jaw dropped a bit. He had never called me Amelia before. "This is not your fault. You had no idea that Kathleen could have come this unhinged. The point is, we have to find her now." Just then, his phone rang. "Garcia, tell me you have something," he said, and put her on speakerphone.

"The GPS tracker is still on the car. It's parked somewhere in a residential area. Sending you the map now," Garcia said, her voice deadly serious. Hotch's phone beeped, and we both looked. My stomach leaped to my throat. That was an area I knew all too well.

"She's at my house." I looked at Hotch, and we both went straight for the other car.

"She's at Amelia's house," Hotch called to the team. "Let's go!" I jumped into the driver's seat, waited for the remainder of the team, cranked the ignition, and gunned it, turning on the sirens and lights as I drove. A cursory glance in the rearview mirror revealed about six or seven cop cars behind me. I had a convoy of screaming cop cars. As we sped through traffic, I had only one conscious thought:

Kathleen Herrera wasn't going to hurt anyone anymore. Not if I had anything to say about it.


	11. It Ends Here

Sirens blared as we raced to my house. I started praying silently that Irene and Ryan weren't home. I couldn't even imagine how badly that would set off his autism. We were halfway there when Hotch's phone rang.

"Garcia?" he asked, putting it on speaker.

"Kathleen Hererra's cell just went active, same location as the car," she said, her voice frantic.

"That means she's going to call someone, most likely me," I said. Sure enough, my phone rang, and a picture of me and Kathleen flashed on my screen. I felt both my heart sink and my stomach rise to my throat. The picture was from our last summer vacation together. All I could think about now was how badly I was going to beat the shit out of her. I pressed answer and put the phone on speaker.

"Kathleen?" I asked.

"Is my ringtone still the same?" she asked. I supressed the need to tell her it had been changed to a song she hates, and moved on.

"What are you doing at my house? Are my dad and Spencer alive?"

"Still worried about your precious Spencer are you?" she sneered. "Why don't you come and see for yourself? Just you. No agents, no weapons, no swat, nothing. Just you."

"Let me talk to them so that I know they're alive," I demanded.

"Ugh, you're no fun," she snorted. "Fine." There was a slight pause, and I could hear heavy breathing.

"Amelia?" It was Spencer. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Spencer!"

"Reid, are you okay?" Hotch said from over my shoulder.

"I'm fine, Hotch. Amelia, don't give...AGH!" There was a cry, and I winced as I realized that Kathleen had just smacked him across the face with a pistol. I felt my fingernails start to cut into my hands as I clenched them in to fists.

"Now my father," I said, continuing to badger her. A few moments of silence, occasionally broken by the sound of a door and someone walking downstairs, and finally.

"Amelia?"

"Dad!" I felt ready to cry. "Dad, are you okay?"

"I've been worse, kiddo," came the cracked answer. I couldn't tell if it was the phone or my dad's voice.

"Dad, where are you?" I asked.

"Four for the finger," was the reply. I immediately knew what that meant. Dad and I had come up with a code phrase for every place in the house, in case we were ever trapped there. That way, it wouldn't sound obvious.

"That's enough now, Uncle Joe," Kathleen said, and she muted the phone. I already knew what she was doing and where to find my dad. The bitch was done.

"Satisfied?" she asked a few seconds later.

"Very," I said. "I'll come alone. If anything has happened to my family, Kathleen, I swear I will end you."

"You can certainly try," she said, and hung up the phone.

"What did your dad say?" Rossi asked me when the call was disconnected.

"We came up with code phrases for different places in the house, just in case we were ever trapped there. 'Four for the finger' means the basement. He calls it his man cave, but it's where we go to watch Steeler games. All of his memorabilia is down there."

"What about Spencer?" Hotch asked.

"Judging by how long it took her to put me on with dad, I'd have to say my room. I didn't hear any other voices, and she would have gloated with me about it, so Irene and Ryan aren't there. I need to get ahold of them," I said, and started texting.

"Why not call?" Hotch said.

"I preface emergency calls with a 911 text. Irene always at least looks at her text messages, no matter what she's doing." I waited 10 seconds, and called. She instantly answered.

"What's wrong, Amelia?"

"Where are you and Ryan?"

"He's almost done with rehearsal. I'm picking him up now," she replied.

"Don't go back to the house. Take him out to dinner or something, or say you need to grab some things from the store. I'll call you when it's safe to come home," I said.

"Amelia, what's going on?"

"I can't explain now. Trust me, Irene, please." There was a moment of silence.

"Alright. Please be careful," she said.

"I promise," I replied. "I'll call you when it's safe," and hung up the phone. Now, I just had to keep that promise.

We stopped almost a full block from the house, completely out of view. I took out my earpiece and left my gun in the car.

"Amelia, are you sure about this?" Derek said as I unloaded my gun.

"If this will keep my dad and Spencer safe, then yes," I replied, not stopping. The only thing I had on was my Kevlar vest.

"What about keeping you safe?" he said. I just looked at him, and handed him my phone.

"If something happens to me, take her down, and don't let Irene and Ryan back to the house until everything is clear. Do your best to keep everything the way it was. I don't want Ryan having an attack because something was out of place. In my bedroom is a copy of my will, and the FBI has a copy on file as well."

"Amelia," he started.

"Derek, please," I pleaded, using his first name to put emphasis on my wishes. He took my phone and nodded, seeming defeated. Without another word, I walked up the street to my house. As I got close, my elderly neighbor, Mrs. Yavorski, peeked out of her door.

"Amelia? Is everything alright? Why do you have that vest on?" she asked.

"I'll explain later, Mrs. Yavorski. Right now, I need you to stay in your home," I said.

"Should I call the police?" she offered. I knew she was doing this to be kind, and I knew that she was aware of my new job.

"No, ma'am. Everything will be alright," I said, mustering a smile. She noticed the strain on my face, I could tell. Mrs. Yavorski was in her 90s, but still completely lucid and healthy as a horse. Her husband had been a police officer for many years, and had trained my dad. He passed away only 3 years ago, at the ripe age of 95. His wife took care of him the entire time, being a retired nurse.

"Before you go, I want to give you something," she said, beckoning me to her door. I sensed something else behind her invitation, and went to her. She handed me a small brown paper bag.

"I baked these this morning. I was going to take them over to your brother and stepmother, but they left before I could. Would you take them over for me? They're lemon drop, Ryan's favorite," she said. The bag felt suspiciously heavy. I peeked inside, and sitting on top of the delicious cookies...was a combat knife. I looked at her, and she had a steely look on her face.  _She's seen everything_ , I realized. I nodded.

"I will. Thank you, Mrs. Yavorsky," I said.

"Take care of yourself," she said in a low voice. "My husband always said that you can to far more damage to an opponent with a knife at 15 feet, than you can with a gun." I thanked her again, rolling up the bag carefully, and walking to my house.

Kathleen had parked the SUV in a way that I would have to walk behind it in order to reach the stairs. With practiced speed, I pulled the knife out of the bag, and carefully tucked it into the back of my pants, underneath my shirt, where she wouldn't see it, but in a way that it could be easily drawn. I then popped a cookie in my mouth. They were delicious as always, and gave me a little boost of confidence. I continued up the stairs, wiping the crumbs from my mouth. The front door was slightly ajar, but I rang the doorbell anyway to announce my arrival. There was a slight shuffle from upstairs, and I heard a voice call out, "Come in!" Kathleen's voice was all too cheery. She'd completely gone around the bend. I walked in, and she was standing at the top of the stairs.

"What's in the bag?" she demanded, pointing the gun at it.

"Mrs. Yavorsky gave me some cookies to give to my mom and brother," I replied, opening the bag slowly to show her.

"That stupid old hag always did have a way in the kitchen," Kathleen spat. "Maybe I'll get her next." She let out a giggle at the thought, and then motioned to the door. "Leave them there and come upstairs. We have a surprise for you." I noted the use of the word 'we', but did as I was told. I slowly came up the stairs, and was brought to my room. My stomach dropped at what I saw.

Spencer was strung up by his wrists, hanging from the ceiling fan. His face was battered and bruised, as were several parts of his torso and arms. He looked barely conscious. A quick mental scan confirmed my suspicions.

"For the love of God, Kathleen, what have you done?"

"He wouldn't say he loved me!" Kathleen said, sounding scarily like Harley Quinn. "I needed to show him that he did. Isn't that right, dear?" She grabbed Spencer's chin, lifting it so that he would look at her. His eyes were out of focus, and he could barely make a sound. When his eyes met mine, I felt a panic spread throughout him.

"Amelia!" he managed. Kathleen whacked him with the butt of her pistol.

"That's all you could say? Now, when you decide to speak, you say her name?" she shrieked, hitting him again and again. I felt him slip from consciousness.

"Kathleen, stop it!" I cried. "You're going to kill him!" I tried to run to him, but she pointed her gun at me.

"Is that so?" she said, her eyes wild. "Well then, if that's the case," and she slowly turned her gun on Spencer. "If he won't love me in this life, then the afterlife will have to do!"

"NNOOOOO!" I screamed, and dove for the gun. The first shot fired into the ceiling fan, cutting Spencer down. The second shot just flew out of my window and into a tree. She managed to wrestle away from me, and I felt a shot tear through my right thigh. My adrenaline was going, so I hardly noticed it. A fourth shot smacked me right in the chest, knocking the wind out of me. I drew the combat knife and lunged. I felt it slide between her ribs into her lung. It was serrated, so the damage was done. She looked at me, shocked. Slowly, she fell backwards on to my bed. I knew that she was going to die. Her lung had already begun to fill with blood and collapse, so I left the knife in. As my adrenaline began to subside, the pain in my leg caught up with me, as did the pain in my chest. I crawled over to where Spencer was lying. I managed to cradle his head in my arms before the door burst open, and the rest of the team came in, weapons drawn. My vision went fuzzy and I felt myself start to collapse. Someone caught me, and I heard a male voice say my name. I couldn't tell who it was.

"Spencer," was my last word and conscious thought before I blacked out.


	12. Finally

I woke up in the hospital. My leg was bandaged and hanging from a sling, and my chest felt badly bruised, but otherwise, I felt alright. A nurse was looking at my IV.

"Where am I?" I asked. She looked at me with a smile on her face.

"Well, look who's awake?" she said. "You're going to be fine, Agent. You're at Allegheny General," she said, patting my arm. "The rest of your team is outside. Would you like me to call them in?" I looked around and realized that I had the room to myself. I nodded, and she walked out of the room. A few minutes later, the team walked in. I adjusted the bed so that I could sit up and see everyone. I was happy to see all of the smiling faces...except that one was missing.

"How're you feeling, kid?" Rossi asked, moving to the right side of my bed.

"Sore, and it hurts to breathe a little bit, but I'm fine," I replied, gently rubbing where the bruise on my chest had to be. "How's...?"

"Your family is fine," Derek said. "We found your dad in the basement, right where he said he'd be, and Irene and Ryan are safe." That took some worry off of me. I kept on looking for the one face I wanted to see, but it was nowhere to be found. Everyone noticed my confusion, and got really quiet.

"Where's Spencer?" I asked. There was a tense moment of silence before JJ spoke up.

"He's outside. He's not sure that you want to see him," she said.

"Why wouldn't I want to see him?" I said, confused. My head was still a little foggy from the painkillers, so it took a while for me to realize that he was either embarrassed, or upset that I got hurt trying to save him. Not being the particularly macho kind, that left him being upset. Once I figured it out, I talked to the team for a little bit, trying to keep myself upbeat, especially because Garcia had skyped in. Deep down, I knew what was coming. Eventually, I would have to talk to him. After about 10 minutes, I noticed a familiar mess of brown hair near the window of my door. I also heard a female voice from outside, which I recognized as Irene. I asked the team to let Spencer and my family in, and they all smiled knowingly. One by one, they gave me a hug, and walked out of the room. Derek, the last to hug me, whispered, "Go easy on pretty boy, Bay. He's had it just as rough as you."

"I know," I replied quietly. "Thanks, Morgan." Once he left, my dad, Ryan, and Irene all walked in happily. Ryan practically pounced on me, screaming my name.

"OOF!" I grunted as he landed dangerously close to my bruise. "Hey buddy, how are ya?"

"Amelia, I'm having a blast with the show!" he said, and proceeded to tell me the rehearsal process in great detail. I would have cut him off, but I was just glad to hear his voice and know he was safe, so I listened with genuine interest. Once he was done, I looked at my dad. He had some cuts and bruises on his face, but nothing serious.

"How're you feeling, dad?"

"I've had worse, kiddo," he replied. Remembering that he had been both shot and stabbed, I knew this to be true. "If anything, my feelings are hurt. I really thought Kathleen was a good kid."

"Obsession can do that to someone, Dad," I said. "If I had to guess, she'd developed something close to Attachment disorder, or even borderline personality disorder."

"She also could have been nuts from the start," my dad commented.

"True," I acquiesced, knowing that the thought has some merit. Maybe she'd always been like this, it just took a real attachment to send her over the edge.

"After talking to that boy out there, I'd say he's a better match for you," Irene said, looking toward where Spencer was standing. I followed her gaze and saw him standing just outside of the door.

"Spencer, you can come in," I said. He didn't say a word. He didn't even make eye contact with me.

"It's alright, son," my dad said, motioning towards him. Ryan got up from where he was sitting, walked over to Spencer, and held out his hand. I saw Irene smile and take my dad's arm. Ryan generally wasn't this open to strangers, or people he was just acquainted with.

"My sister wants to see you," he said innocently. Spencer looked at him, looked at me and my parents, and took the outstretched hand offered to him. Ryan brought him inside and sat him down. We sat in an uncomfortable silence for almost three minutes, the longest three minutes of my life. Finally, I heard Irene sigh.

"Oh for God's sake," she said. Grabbing Spencers hand, she placed it on mine and held them there. "Say something, Spencer!" The motion shocked everyone, including me. Irene was normally very quiet and reserved, coming from years of practiced patience with her son. She then backed up, grabbed Ryan's hand and my dad's arm, and lead them out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Spencer and I looked at each other, and a surprised chuckle came from both of us.

"Has she ever done that before?" he asked. I had noticed that he hadn't let go of my hand.

"Nope," I replied. "She's right, though," I continued. "You want to say something, I can tell."

"Why did you do it?" he asked quietly, barely letting me get my sentence out. "Why did you come in after me? You could have been killed. She probably would have killed you."

"Because I was taught never to leave a man behind," I replied. When he just looked at me, I continued.

"I never told you how my mom died, did I?" Spencer shook his head. "She died saving the life of another soldier. Her convoy was ambushed outside of a small village. Another soldier was stuck out in the line of fire. My mom ran out to get him and threw him behind a downed jeep before a rocket explosion took her down." Spencer just sat there silently. I could feel some tears forming, but I felt more pride than anything. "I wasn't going to lose any more family, Spencer. It hasn't been a long time, I know, but when you're going to be spending that much time with people, you consider them family. I'm going to be spending A LOT of time with you guys, so you might as well be family." I gripped his hand gently. "Hopefully, I'll spend more time with you especially," I added. Spencer looked down.

"FBI policy says," he began.

"I know what the policy says," I replied. "But I'm not changing how I feel. I care about you, Spencer Reid. I don't care what anyone says, FBI or otherwise." He seemed shocked. Standing up, he drew the curtain around my bed to about half way, just so I couldn't see the door. Then, he walked back to me and planted a kiss on my lips. I immediately pulled him closer with my right hand, my fingers curling in his messy mop of brown hair. His left hand gently held my head while the other one moved slowly down my neck to the collar of my hospital gown. There was about 5 minutes of bliss, where nothing and no one mattered but the two of us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who may bring this up, I am very well aware that the FBI does not prohibit agents from marrying and having relationships. However, because this is canon in the show, I'm keeping it canon in the fic.


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mature Content Warning: Guys, this one is a straight up lemon. So, if you aren't in to this kind of thing, you don't have to read it.

**_6 months later_ **

Many successful cases later, I was busy working late one night when Derek came over to my desk.

"You shouldn't be working so late, honey. It's bad for your health," he said, handing me a cup of coffee, which I gratefully accepted.

"I know, but I'm a little behind on paperwork, and I don't want to spend the whole weekend doing it," I said.

"You and pretty boy going somewhere?" he asked. I could tell that he knew. His powers of observation were amazing.

"If you must know, I'm going home for the weekend. Ryan is in another musical, and I promised that I wouldn't miss this one," I replied. "Spencer is coming with me because he's never seen  _How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying_."

"Who's your brother playing?"

"J.P. Bigley of all characters," I said with a grin. Getting involved with the musicals was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had made some awesome friends, as well as opened up to strangers as well. It was better than all of the years of therapy he went through.

"Hopefully he hasn't read the script already," Derek joked. I laughed.

"You know that he did already," I said. He sat down on my desk and pushed my laptop aside.

"Amelia, he's a special kid. I know that you know that, but he's been through more than he lets on. We all worry about him," he said. "None of us want to see him get hurt, including you, I'm sure." Normally, I would have been offended by the warning, but I knew better. Derek was one of the four people on the team who had known Spencer the longest. He was just looking out for him, like a big brother.

"Derek, you have my word, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt him," I said, putting my hand on his leg. "He's not as delicate has he seems, but I know what you're getting at." Derek smiled, leaned over, and kissed me on the head.

"You know I trust you, right?" he asked.

"With your life," I replied. "As I trust you with mine." He bid me goodnight and a safe trip home. I finished up my paperwork quickly, gathered my things, and left the building. Just as I got to my car, Spencer called me.

"You're out late," he said.

"I know, I'm sorry. The paperwork took me a little longer than anticipated," I said. "I'll be back soon, I'm getting in to my car now." He was staying at my place tonight since we were leaving very early in the morning.

"I've been reading through the script, and some things don't make sense to me," he said. I just sighed. He stayed on the phone with me the whole ten minute drive home, and didn't even pause when I walked through the door and hung up. He was mid sentence when I just placed a finger over his lips.

"All of your questions will be answered when we go to see the show," I said softly, and replaced my finger with my own lips. It was a quick peck as I was eager to get into my pajamas. I walked to my bedroom and started disrobing, when I noticed Spencer in the doorway, leaning on the doorjamb, just watching me. "Like what you see?"

"You know I do," he replied, crossing the threshold. When we were alone, he could be amazingly suave and charming. I continued to undress when I felt him come up behind me, gently pressing against me with his hands on my hips. He planted a few gentle kisses on my shoulders and neck before I turned around and yanked at his tie. He hadn't changed out of his button down and corduroy slacks, which just meant more fun for me.

"We have to leave in 6 hours," I said, noting the time as I unbuttoned his shirt.

"Plenty of time," he whispered as he dove in for a kiss. It quickly became heated as I finished with his shirt, leaving the tie on. I'm not sure why, but I found it incredibly sexy. I had no shirt on, but he deftly undid the clasp on my bra and tossed it off of me. I found the belt on his pants and had it off quickly, along with the slacks. He was wearing boxer briefs, which surprised me. I stared at them for a moment, and he playfully wiggled his hips. "Like 'em?"

"Yeah," I said, walking around the back. "They make your ass look amazing." He shoved said ass back at me, pushing me on to the bed. Before I could react, he was on top of me, the bulge in the front of his briefs pressing against my thigh. I still had my slacks on...but not for long. I started fiddling with them, but he quickly stopped me. Leaving a trail of kisses behind, he slowly moved down to the hem, and pulled at the clasp with his teeth. I could feel the heat building in my lower abdomen.  _God, what I wouldn't do for him to take me right now,_  I thought. I must have given some of my thought away, because he chuckled. I knew what that meant. He was going to tease me. I gave a small whimper as he slowly pulled my slacks and underwear off as one. Once they were across the room, he moved his way back up, raking his nails on the inside of my thighs. I could feel myself squirming, and I moaned. He hitched my right leg over his shoulder and started caressing and kissing it, making the heat turn to throbbing in my abdomen. I had never wanted someone so badly. I managed to reach up and yank at the waistband of his boxer briefs. He gave a low chuckle.

"So that's what you want," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand moved down to that sweet spot and teased it with his fingers. What came out of me was something between a whimper, a sob, and a moan. I wanted him, and I wanted him now. Without warning, I sat up, pulled down his underwear, and started stroking him. His hand froze, and he threw his head back, giving a moan at the sudden sensation. I kept my pace steady, occasionally teasing him with my tongue. When I finally took him in my mouth, the gasp he gave was amazing, and only spurred me on. I sped up my pace, going as far as I could. Finally, after several minutes, I felt him tense up and release. The noise that tore from his throat was...I don't know how to describe it. I thought I heard my name, but it came out almost like a growl. I waited until the throbbing subsided a bit before I pulled away. He was heaving for breath, a wild look in his eyes. I knew what was coming next, and I was aching for it. He pushed me back on the bed, pinned both of my hands above my head, and pushed right in. I felt a harsh moan come from me. Despite all of my wanting, I still wasn't ready for it. The friction was wonderful as he set a medium pace. My eyes were shut and I was moaning and screaming, writhing beneath him.

"Spencer," I managed to get out, and looked him in the eyes. His pupils had dilated, and it was almost like an animal had replaced him...which I loved. His pace picked up at the sound of name, and so did the force behind it. My mind started fogging up as the wave after wave of pleasure overtook me. We went at it for what felt like hours, changing positions every so often. Each change brought with it a new wave of sensations. Finally, back in our starting position, I could feel myself tensing.

"Spencer, I'm," I got out.

"Me too," he growled. He got centimeters from my face. "Come with me," he said, and went as fast as he could. I felt him explode inside of me as I clamped down on him, our pulses coming simultaneously. We just paused there for a few minutes, allowing ourselves to calm down. I looked at the time, and realized that sleep was going to be pointless. When he finally rolled off of me, still gasping for breath, I rolled over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Go get a shower," I said. "I'm going to make some coffee."

"Aww...no cuddling?" he replied, putting on puppy dog eyes, which with his shade of brown, was extra adorable.

"I love you, hon, but no. We have to leave in 4 hours. We both need showers and I need to finish packing," I said. I moved to get up, but he grabbed me and pulled me in for a sweet kiss.

"I love you too," he said. I allowed myself a few minutes of cuddling before I finally forced myself up. As I was making coffee, I felt something hit me from behind. He had thrown his underwear at me to get my attention.

"You know, we could shower together," he suggested, a cheesy sly grin on his face.

"Ha ha, very funny," I said, grinning. He laughed and went into the bathroom to shower. As I stood there, sipping a fresh cup of coffee, I realized that this would get out some day. But I didn't care. I was in love, and despite the promising career with the FBI, that was all that mattered to me.

 


End file.
